Brock woke up on Wednesday and went to the office. He had a few patients in the morning but had cleared the afternoon and evening back when there was still hope for his marriage. He had decided that even though Reba wasn't with him he could still enjoy a nice dinner at the Magnolia.

"Dr. Hart, I'm going to be leaving now. Do you need anything else?" Barbra Jean asked peeking around the door into Brock's office. Brock looked up from his paper work and thought a moment before answering. Barbra Jean grew uncomfortable under his stare.

"Are you doing anything tonight Barbra Jean?" Brock asked seldom.

"Um-I-erg," Barbra Jean stumbled to come up with an answer. Brock let out a sigh and stood up.

"Listen Reba left me and I have a reservation for two at the Magnolia. If you're interested in having dinner together come by the bar tonight at eight thirty. If not I understand." Brock explained before gesturing to Barbra Jean that it was safe to leave now. Barbra Jean walked out of the office not really sure what to do. Brock had just offered her what she wanted more than anything. A chance to be with him.

Brock closed up the office and headed home. Walking in the front door he realizes how quiet it is without his children there. With a heavy heart he walked up stairs and began packing an over night bag. He locks the side and back door and makes his way through the living room. Brock stood at the front door and looked back at his house. There were so many memories of when Reba was with him and it was all so good. Shaking his head he walked out the front door and locked it behind him.

Brock walked to his car and placed his bag on the passenger seat as he climbed in. He pulled out his phone to call Reba but he didn't know what to say to her. She seemed so far away. Brock closed his phone and through it in the back seat. He started the engine and drove away.

It was a little after six when Brock finally arrived at the Magnolia. He parked his car and grabbed his bag making his way up to the front desk. After he was checked in Brock went to see his room and unpack his bag.

He sat on the bed and looked around the room. Spotting the phone on the table a few feet away he made his way over to make a call. Dialing the numbers he knew by heart, he said a silent prayer as the ringing began.

"Hello?" A female voice greeted him. Brock let out a silent breath.

"Hi Reba, I wanted to know if you wanted to have din-"

"Gotcha! I'm not here right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you." The last part of her message was barely above a whisper before she let out a giggle. Brock hung up the phone in a rush. What was he thinking. She was obviously moving now and didn't want to see or talk with him. Sighing Brock stood up.

Brock pulled a shirt out of his bag. It was something Reba bought for him saying that he could wear it when they went out some day. Brock laughed at the irony of the situation now. He removed the tag and placed it on the bed. Brock walked to the bathroom to take a shower. By seven, he was fully dressed and headed down to the bar determined to have a good time tonight.

Walking into the lounge, Brock found himself a seat on the corner of the bar. It was secluded enough that he didn't have to worry about being in people's way but not too secluded that he was inaccessible.

"What'll it be?" The bartended asked looking at Brock over the counter.

"Long Island ice tea," Brock nodded in the direction of the bartender before he glanced around the room seeing who was there.

"You got it." The bartender left to make the drink and returned a short while later. "Everything ok?"

"I'm not sure," Brock shrugged taking his first sip. "Could you do me a favor though?"

Confused the bartender asked, "What kind of favor?"

Brock chuckled. "Just keep track of my drinks and don't let me go over eight. Oh and if anyone talks with me tonight, I want you to keep a mental picture of them."

"You waiting for someone special?" The bartender asked drinking out one of the glasses. Brock chuckled and just took a sip of his drink.

The next morning Brock woke up to a still dark hotel room with a splitting headache. A he slowly looked around the room the sound of knocking registered in his mind. Walking over to the door he pulled it open gently.

"Yes?" He asked with a yawn.

"Room Service sir," the chipper hotel employee greeted with a cart of breakfast treats.

"I didn't order any room service though," Brock said biting back another yawn as he began making a pot of coffee.

"Oh no sir. You didn't order any room service, but your wife did."

"My wife?!" Brock asked dropping the coffee pot at the word wife.

"Yes the woman that you have staying in your room with you. She called about an hour ago for room service."

Brock stared at the employee for a good minute or two before speaking. "Why does the bar downstairs open?"

"It opens at 3 sir."

"What time is it now?"

"Twelve-thirty. Is everything alright sir?"

Brock rubbed a tired hand over his face as he tried to piece together memories from the night before.